The Encounter
by The Doctor's Agent
Summary: It wasn't everyday that The Master got hit in the face by a door.


He met her at a coffee shop, or rather, at the entrance of a coffee shop. She'd just gotten a hot drink—he remembered that quite clearly. To warm her up most likely. It was cold that morning. She had been exiting the shop in a hurry, to meet the Doctor no doubt, and had flung the door outwards without a second thought.

He had her arrived at her present time, and had decided to get a drink. A simple enough task. He was The Master, after all. To his surprise, the door met him to the punch and sent him down on his backside.

His face. His face had hurt. It took a moment for him comprehend what happened, but realization suddenly dawned on him. She'd hit him in the face with the door.

And worst still, her hot drink came crashing down into his chest, scorching him.

"Oi! Are you okay?" She kneeled down to be at his eye level, her eyebrows creased in a worried expression.

He swore and cradled the side of his face. Timelord or not, he'd have a bruise there soon enough. The woman had an arm that's for sure. "What does it look like, you idiot."

She frowned, hands on hips. "Well there's no reason to be rude. It was accident."

He gave her a look.

"You aren't the one who's been attacked by an insane woman with door and coffee as a weapon." He said, motioning his hands from her to himself.

"I didn't see you. It was an accident." She shot back.

"Say that to my bruised face and ruined shirt."

She rolled her eyes, but helped him up nonetheless, taking his hand in her own before he could protest. He took back his hand as fast possible while still trying to remain controlled. It had been so long since he had been touched by anyone—human or otherwise. Fresh on his feet, The Master had tried his best to wipe clean his shirt in vain. She stopped him.

"That's not coming out just by doing that," She bit her lip, clearly trying to make a difficult decision. Finally, she came up with a conclusion. "Come to my flat, I'll fix your shirt right up. I'll pop it into the washing machine. Shouldn't be more than twenty-five minutes. Swear."

"No. I've got to be places to be, things to do." He said, backing up and turned to leave. He felt a hand shoot out to grab the crook of his arm, bringing him to a stop. The human girl spun him around to face her, her eyebrow raised.

"Don't be daft. It would stupid for you to be walking around with a coffee stain on your shirt. Come with me." He felt himself being dragged to where he could only guess was her flat.

He shouldn't have. He could've been planning to end the Doctor. Formulating strategies, taking over planets, or even just doing plain nothing. Anything. But despite the logic behind the latter option, he nodded his head and followed her to her flat all the same.

(Xx•xX)

"Just, uh, take your shirt off. I'll wash it in a second. You can get a snack from the kitchen if you'd like." The girl said rather awkwardly, pointing to the kitchen. She then retreated into her bedroom, walking as fast as she could without moving to an all out sprint.

He snorted at the girl's disappearing form as he removed his shirt. Humans were very amusing in their annoying ways. They showed hospitality to random strangers, even the one's who called them an 'idiot'.

She came to get his shirt, and once again disappeared to put his shirt in the washing machine.

With chest completely bare, The Master plopped down on her sofa and grabbed the television remote. Teletubbies, unfortunately, was unavailable. So, he settled with a simple show called "Sherlock".

He found the past events that had taken place on the last hour very amusing. Appalling, yet amusing. He—a powerful Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey—had been hit in the face with a door, had hot coffee spilt on himself, and was now sitting on a human girl's couch. What was next, he have a tea party with Daleks?

He snickered to himself quietly.

Soon afterward, the girl appeared back into the living room. She stopped when she saw him shirtless on her sofa. After the initial look of shock on her face, she visibly steeled herself and her expression soon turned to annoyance. In a return, he grinned at her mischievously.

"Make yourself at home, won't you?" She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes again.

"Well if you insist." He gave her a wink, as he tapped the familiar drumbeat over and over.

"You act very comfortable to be in a stranger's flat."

"I prefer to take things as they come." He grinned wider and turned his attention back to the television show. It wasn't long until he felt pressure beside him. It was then when he realized that she'd taken a seat next to him, watching it intently.

"I haven't ever watched this show before." She commented idly, bobbing her head to the side.

He shrugged. "Neither have I."

They watched in silence for a while, side by side. It was rather serene actually, as if they had been doing this on a regular basis. It wasn't long until he felt something hit his shoulder. He looked and saw that it was the girl. She had nodded off and went to sleep, leaning her head on his shoulder for support.

He wasn't sure what to do in this occasion. It wasn't everyday that he found someone asleep on him. The only movement he made was the tapping of his fingers to the beat. Tap tap tap tap. Again, awkward as he felt, it had an air of familiarity to it. He knew for certain that he'd never met this girl because he would've remembered her, that's for sure.

He liked her, despite just meeting her. She would definitely make a good companion. It gets lonely—trying to conquer the galaxy by himself. Perhaps he could invite her to travel with him. Unlikely, but it was a possibility.

Slowly, he put a very awkward arm over her shoulder, careful not to wake her. He then proceeded to watch the remaining of the episode quietly. She snuggled up closer to him as time went on, sighing contentedly. He, in return, enjoyed her warmth and company. The drums also seemed to quiet down in her company. It was quite odd, but he didn't dare question this little blessing.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that.

Just as he felt himself begin to drift asleep, she stirred. She raised her head up, surprise written all over her pretty face. She quickly moved away from him and stood, a blush appearing on her cheeks in embarrassment. He already missed her warmth.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I sorta dozed off for a second."

He arose from the sofa, and gave her an arrogant smirk.

"Oh well I quite liked it." He winked at her again, causing her to blush more profusely. He enjoyed messing with her and she knew it.

A distant ding went off in another room.

"I need, uh, to go get that." She said and went to get his shirt.

She came back with it fast and gave it to him. He took it and slipped it on.

"Thank you." He said, moving closer to her.

"You're welcome."

With an instant he moved directly in front of her, their bodies mere inches millimeters away from each other. She gasped at his closeness.

"I do believe that you owe me an apology." He whispered to her, raising an eyebrow.

Their noses were almost touching now.

"Do I?" She teased, looking into his eyes.

"Yes, I do believe you do."

Then his lips met hers. He moved slowly at first, waiting to see if she responded. She kissed back immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He growled and pushed her up against the wall, pushing his body closer to hers. The world seemed to halt as they moved in perfect sync. She bit his bottom lip, he roamed his fingers through her hair.

When they came up for air, she spoke. "I hope that made up for it."

He tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and laid another tentative kiss upon her lips . "I'd say so."

She laughed. "You know, I don't even know you're name."

"My name isn't important." 'The Master' was hardly a normal name in the human world.

"It is to me." She pouted her lips and gave him her saddest face.

"In all fairness, I don't know your name either."

"Clara. Clara Oswald."

"Clara..." Said the Master, testing out the name. "I think I like that name."


End file.
